The Adventures of Mutt Jones
by RedRogue
Summary: Post Crystal Skull: After Indy's brutal death, Mutt is left to fill some pretty large shoes. Artifacts must be nabbed before the Nazis and the daughter of his father's oldest rival can reach them first. And Shorty's along to help!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

-

This was genuine, heart-stopping terror.

The blade was cold against his throat. Mutt's own knife, taken from his own pocket, and put against his own throat. This crazy Nazi terrorist named Ernst held him by a fistful of his hair, ruining his perfectly good hair day. But his oily hair styling was an afterthought, the furthest thing on his mind at that moment, as his heart stood frozen in suspense with that switchblade under his chin.

"Now, take it easy," his father, Henry 'Indiana' Jones Jr., pleaded with the younger man. There was a fear and a desperation in his eyes as Mutt had not seen before. This was nothing like his snake phobia, or that look he gets after his mother slaps him.

No, this was genuine, heart-stopping terror.

The cave was crumbling around them and the starving tigers in the pit below them were getting restless with the teasing of tasty morsels in the near future. The rock bridge on which they stood was quaking with the earth, broad cracks appearing in the foundation. No one would live through this if something was not done soon.

"We've gotten out of worse," Mutt assured his father, as he struggled against the Nazi's hold.

"Have we? I can't recall."

His father and his smart mouth. He was almost as witty as his son. Almost.

Suddenly a pair of Nazi guards appeared through a nearby hallway, guns pointed, cocked, and ready.

"Okay, maybe not as bad as this," Mutt admitted, putting his hands in the air.

"I do not want to kill your son, Dr. Jones," Ernst assured him. "It is more devastating a fate than I wish to bestow. I'll even let him take the artifact with him. I will settle for simply having _your_ life instead. It is what I came for, after all."

-

Mutt sat in his chair outside the dean's office, contemplating a comb in his hands. It was black, with very thin bristles. It had a comfortable dwelling place in his back pocket for the last five years. Very easily, Mutt snapped it in half between two fists.

"Henry Jones the Third?" a receptionist called his name from a clipboard, adjusting her black cat-eyed glasses to look at the broken young man sitting in the waiting room chair. Her face let through a glimpse of pity for him, but it was quickly stifled, keeping her all-business façade.

Mutt entered through the door directed, exchanging the wooden chair in the hall for a padded model in front of the principal's desk.

The white-haired old man straightened himself in his chair, coughing a bit to clear his throat. 'Thomas Jolly' was the name printed across a golden nameplate sitting on his oakwood desk. The name suited him. He was a cheery old man, patient and fair. Mutt was not a stranger to this office, having visited it on many occasions since his return to school. He had not adjusted well to the contained environment and strict rules.

"You struck another student. Again."

"He had it coming," Mutt breathed in a whisper. His gaze was locked on that golden nameplate, his eyes puffy with oncoming tears.

"What did they say this time?" Mr. Jolly heaved in a sigh.

"They called me a liar."

"A liar about what?"

"How my dad died."

"Why do their opinions matter to you so much?"

Mutt shook his head.

"It's disrespectful. He died to have honor and he more than deserves it from scum like Kevin McDowell."

"The way I hear it… your father died for _you_."

Mutt gulped back a lump in his throat.

"I know you declined my offer," Mr. Jolly said, signing his name on a piece of paper. "But after today, I'm afraid I'm going to have to force it on you."

Mutt seized the armrests of his chair and lunged forward.

"You can't!"

Mr. Jolly shook his head no.

"I already have. School is not the place for you after all that's happened--"

Mutt was already flying from his seat, slamming a firm hand on Mr. Jolly's desk.

"My father wanted me to finish school and I damn well _mean_ to!"

"And you will! You just won't do it by sitting in a classroom. I'm excusing you for the rest of the term. You'll get your diploma in the mail."

Mutt heaved a large breath, getting a hold of his temper. He knew he wasn't going to win this one, but it didn't make him any happier about it.

"It's for your own good, Henry," Mr. Jolly assured him. "Make the best of your free time."

-

Ernst shoved Mutt away as Indiana willingly stepped forward, his arms spread out.

"Dad, what the hell are you doing?!" Mutt hissed, rubbing his neck where the blade had once threatened. "You got a plan, right?"

"Sure thing, son…" Indy assured him.

"Well, I'm right behind you."

Indiana frowned in deep thought and patted his son on the shoulder, then took off his signature cap and handed it to his son.

"Hold my hat," he ordered firmly.

No other words were exchanged. He stepped up bravely to his oldest adversary. Mutt smirked. His father _so_ totally had a plan.

"This is exactly how I imagined the great Indiana Jones to die," Ernst smiled with great pleasure, twisted by his cruelty. "No gimmicks, no frills."

The tall German stepped forward, knife extended to Indiana.

"Just a blade into another man's heart. A simple end to a fantastic legend."

Mutt shifted in his stance, glancing at the two Nazi guards who had rifles pointed at Indiana lest he make any sudden moves of heroism. No gun was pointed at Mutt himself. He was free to take the artifact and leave, but his eyes were locked on the scene before him, his feet glued to the unsteady ground.

"I'm right here, just say the word, pop," Mutt reminded his father, a hint of nervousness now slipping into his tone.

Ernst closed the last bit of space between them, pressing the pointed tip of the blade over Indiana's heart.

"Any last words, Dr. Jones?"

"Dad, anytime now," Mutt urged. Indiana looked to his son. And he smiled. That's when Mutt knew that his father would not be seeing tomorrow's sunset.

"No," Mutt breathed, his eyes growing wide. "DAD!"

Mutt yelled in a fit of rage, shoving a guard out of his way and lunging for Ernst. The bridge began to crumble under the added weight, but no one seemed to pay it much mind. Mutt grabbed at his switchblade in Ernst's evil grasp, taking him by surprise. Mutt didn't take time to be accurate, just threw a good slash at whatever he could, which ending up being the man's mouth, cutting his lips wide open. Ernst called out in pain, seizing his face with both hands and doubling over.

A second later, a guard had his gun raised, aiming at Mutt's back, in an attempt to retaliate. There was no time to react.

"No!" was the yell echoed through the halls, as Indy hurled himself as a human shield to his son, just as the rifle fired.

_BANG_!

The sound boomed chillingly through the rumbling cave. Time froze and all fell silent as Indiana fell limply into his son's arms. The great Indiana Jones was instantly killed.

"Dad…" Mutt tried to coax him awake. Nothing could register through his shock at what his eyes had just witnessed. Not even tears could be processed. The cracks in the bridge came broadly then, not sympathetic to the dismal scene.

"Ernst, sir! The bridge is caving!" the murderous guard called. His name patch said 'Gunsted'. A name Mutt burned into his memory for future reference. Ernst left Mutt and Indiana behind, rushing out with the two other guards in a great hurry.

"Dad, come on, we gotta go," Mutt said, still not accepting the fact that his father was no longer with him. Half the bridge fell to the tigers below. Still, Mutt tried to drag his father off the bridge, just beyond harm's way…

The bridge began to crumble under his feet.

"No," he commanded the threatening rock firmly. He tugged at his father's arm to get him further along, at least to get his body home… it was so valuable to him… The reality of his father's death was beginning to hit him then, as tears poured down his face so profusely he could barely see.

That's when the ground under Indiana's body dissipated, his limp corpse tumbling down to the pit. Mutt could only watch in horror as the tigers swarmed like a pack of wolves, biting wherever they could get a mouthful, fighting each other for the smallest morsel. Mutt had to watch as his father's body got ripped to pieces, the meat torn from his very bones, for what seemed like an eternity.

After a while, the crumbling cave forced Mutt to leave the sight behind, but that horrifying image wouldn't be leaving his mind's eye anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**-**

Mutt exited the principals office feeling a bit abandoned and without direction. He shrugged the strap of his backpack a little higher on his shoulder, and started to head for the door. The bell rang, freeing students of their classes for the day, making his journey a bit slower, having to weave through the instant crowd.

"Hey, Williams!" he heard a familiar voice call. Mutt already knew who it was, and didn't bother to look or even stop walking.

"Hey, _Williams_, I'm _talking_ to you!"

Kevin McDowell reached out one of his thick hands and turned Mutt around to face him.

"We have unfinished business, son."

Mutt twitched his mouth, not very interested in talking, especially to someone he deemed not worth his time anyway. Mutt flung a finger laxly, pointing at Kevin's black eye.

"I think I finished it all over your face, _son_."

Kevin immediately grabbed Mutt by the shirt, pulling him up toward his face.

"You want to run that by me again?"

"Why, your little brain didn't catch it the first time?"

"This is coming from the kid who says _Nazis_ killed his great legendary father. The brave, fearless _teacher_ in the bow tie."

"Nazis!" a few of his friends standing around laughed. "Get real!"

"There ain't no more Nazis, Williams," Kevin spoke slowly, leaning close to Mutt's face. "So, I think you're talking out your ass."

Mutt felt his fist closing, clenching, shaking in its tight grip.

"McDowell!" called the firm voice of an older woman. "To the principal's office."

Mutt let his fist relax, as Kevin gave him a final passing glare. This fight was over. Or perhaps just postponed.

Mutt continued on his trek out the front door of the school, pulling out the keys to his motorcycle. He was almost free of this godforsaken place. Maybe he'd volunteer his time at the machine shop, even if he wasn't scheduled to work today. It beat going home to his equally depressed mother. Mutt now knew from experience, forget what people said, misery _doesn't_ like company. It likes to be left the hell alone.

He was so close to his bike he could smell the oil, only to be intercepted by some other kid clouding his perfectly horrible day. Some geek Asian in a tan trenchcoat and glasses that stood between Mutt and his prized bike. His spiky black hair was tousled and askew, like he hadn't showered in a good few days. His brow was up, his eyes dancing intensely in excitement. He appeared to be around Mutt's age, maybe older.

"Mi-ter Wir-yiams!"

"How many times I gotta tell people? It's _Jones_."

The Asian nodded and smiled broadly in understanding.

"Of course," he agreed, then extended a hand. "Name is Short Round, Mi-ter Jones, sir. It is honor. Reary, reary _big_ honor."

Mutt took his hand back as his own, and put a leg over his bike.

"Your old lady named you _Short_? Were you a _planned_ baby?"

"How should I know? I wasn't there."

"That's a great story, but I don't have time to endure it, so if you'll excuse me."

Mutt kicked on his engine, but this kid was nothing if not determined. He grabbed on the handlebar of the bike and held tight.

"Hey, where going?"

"Away," Mutt replied, prying his offending fingers off one by one.

"I need to talk to you!"

"That's nice."

"I hear about your father. Very sad, I sorry to hear. He was good man."

Mutt looked up at the kid for the first time in their entire exchange of words.

"How would _you_ know?"

"I work with him few times, long while ago."

Mutt kicked off the engine, and dismounted the motorcycle.

"Alright, Shorty. Let's talk."

Out of the corner of his eye, Mutt saw a woman coming closer, a woman he knew all too well. That confident strut, that 'know-it-all' arch of the eyebrow, that haughty upturned nose, that I'm-too-good-for-you flick of her black hair… Roux Belloq, daughter of René Belloq, his father's old archaeological rival since his schoolyard days. The same glory hounding René Belloq that bamboozled his father out of countless artifacts, some by the point of a gun. She was living up to her father's name, making Mutt's life miserable in any way she knew how. Evil embodied in a woman.

"Uh, but let's talk somewhere else, huh?" Mutt encouraged Shorty along.

"Huh, why?"

"If we're going to be friends, you're going to have to not ask questions, just go. Go!"

"Hey, there's a lady coming! Oh, she pretty, Mi-ter Jones! Is she belong to you?"

Mutt gave Short a firm shove out of the way of his bike.

"Just _move_, kid!"

"Ah, look who's weaseling his way out of the rigors of education… _again_."

Mutt groaned deep within his chest, his shoulders falling, and his teeth grinding in frustration. Too late for escape now.

"Mister… _Jones_, is it now?" Roux cooed in her annoying way, swaggering her hips with great accentuation. Her words dripped with her French accent. "Henry-Mutt, Williams-Jones…you change your name so many times it does get hard to keep up."

Mutt wasn't so easily put down. Not by her. With Roux, insults came so naturally between them it was very easily put aside.

"Maybe I'm trying to make it harder for you to track me down, ever think of that?" Mutt snapped back. Short's brow shot up, his mouth rounded and he let out an 'ooo' at this.

"Lady, I just meet him, I'm not on his side," Short assured Roux quickly. "I not wanting to be mean to you, in fact, I like you, you very pretty lady and we could be good friends, maybe even more than friends if you--"

Mutt slapped a hand over Short's mouth.

"Don't talk," he ordered firmly. "You have no idea how crazy she is."

Roux pursed her lips in that prissy way she did, turning her nose up and looking down upon Mutt.

"Zat artifact you came home with is _peanuts_ compared to the mother-load _I'm_ after," she bragged openly. "Just got a big lead in China zat'll put my family down in the history books. Too bad your father died before he could discover ze really _important_ finds."

Mutt's mouth was shooting out retorts faster than his brain could process them.

"Too bad _your_ father died before he could even _begin_ his career. 'Obliterated', I believe, was the term my father used to describe how he went…?"

Short took quick glances back and forth between the two rivals, trying to figure out what to make of them. Roux glared laser beams, boring into the spited boy with all her might. Having nothing more to respond, she gave out an 'humph!', turned on her heel and left both boys behind.

Mutt frowned maliciously as Short perked up again. His Asian stalker pointed at himself excitedly.

"Pretty lady say China! That why I'm here!"

Mutt looked at him with a quirked eyebrow to encourage him to explain properly.

"Big lead near where I live," Short went on. "Some big shot send me to get you father but I only find you. He like you father, I think if you ask real nice he tell you instead."

"Tell me what?" Mutt asked curiously.

"I try to tell you. Some really old spear--"

"What, like the Spear of Destiny?"

"No, it more like a sword…"

"You mean Excalibur?"

Shorty sighed in frustration, his shoulder's falling.

"Boy, you really don't know _anything_, do you, Mi-ter Jones?"

-

**Please review.  
Signed,  
--RedRogue  
PS. Roux = Ro, as in rhyming with Joe. Because I'm such a Tomb Raider fan, Roux is much like Lara Croft in appearance, though French in ancestry. Just think of her as a great, great grandmother…**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**-**

The wooden docks were treacherous, making Mutt trip on more than one occasion. Mutt hauled his duffel strap higher over his shoulder. As they got closer to the docks, the crowds became thicker and it was getting harder to weave himself and his abnormally large bag through them. He was quickly regretting having packed so many clothes and Short feared, not nearly enough tools. His father's gun, though, was packed securely on his right hip. His father's bullwhip tied firmly on his right. As far as Mutt was concerned, he had more than everything he needed.

"Com'on, Shorty, wait for me," Mutt droned, not too inclined to carry his heavy bag any faster to catch up with his Asian companion. It was far easier to try and make him slow down.

"You know, I can't believe I lied to my mother to come along with you on this stupid Chinese vacation, and you didn't even buy us _boat_ tickets."

"I can't believe she believe you are going to English _boarding_ school!" Short laughed. "And I do have ticket. Just not paper one."

"I didn't think the boarding school thing was _that_ far fetched. Besides, she believed it, didn't she? And what do you mean not paper tickets? What other kind of tickets are there?"

"You have no faith and bad attitude, Mi-ter Jones. Not anything like you father."

"Hey!" Mutt said angrily, grabbing at Short's sleeve with a harsh glare of warning. "No more comparing me to my father. In fact, no more talk about my father _period_. No more. Got it?"

Short nodded seriously, and shook loose from Mutt's grip.

"As long as _you_ fix your bad mood," Short bargained. "Walk faster, we going to miss the boat."

Short led them to a ramp to a pristine ship, very large and elegant in fashion, and Mutt couldn't help but be a bit impressed. He made his way through the line to get up the ramp, but was stopped by the ticket master, a much taller and more heavyset man than he.

"Where do you think you're going?" the older man asked. His breath smelled awful, so Mutt turned his head to the right in order to spare his nose.

"Sir, we need to go to China," Short explained to the man.

"Yeah, no kidding," the bearded man scoffed at Short's accent. He shoved him back away from the loading deck. "Last call to board the _Luminous_!"

"Sir, I know your captain, he a friend," Short went on, stepping up once more.

"And I know the Queen of England," the man replied, shoving him right back again. "Back off."

"Yeah, nice plan, Shorty, now what?" Mutt hissed at Short under his breath.

"What is ze problem, Williams?" called a familiar voice from on deck, one that made Mutt cringe. "Can't afford ze passage?"

The crew around Roux laughed.

"I believe zere is still room on zat _tugboat_," she pointed off somewhere in the distance and giggled at her own joke.

Mutt rolled his eyes.

"I believe zat you win the _irritating_ award," he mocked. "Com'on, Shorty. We don't want to be on the same vessel as her anyway."

"This is _only_ vessel, Mi-ter Jones," Short declared.

Suddenly the pudgier man perked up at the sound of a familiar name.

"Jones?" he repeated. "As in…"

"As in Henry Jones Jr., Indiana Jones, my father," Mutt said with a nod, showing the man a picture of his father he carried in his wallet, and even a school I.D. to take away any lingering doubt.

"They say you captain owe him one," Short informed.

"Honestly," Roux burst out from the distant railing of the ship. "Just because zey drop a name means you let zem board for free? Well, _MY_ father was ze--"

"I don't care who _your_ father is," the heavy man interrupted. "This kid is Dr. Jones's son. Come on up."

"Thanks!" Mutt said with a broad smile, shooting a victorious smirk up at Roux just to rub it in. She '_humph_'ed in that way she did to him often, turned on her heel and left.

-

The dining hall was just as extravagant as everything else in this ship. The floors were hardwood, polished silverware on every table, chandeliers as lighting overhead. Mutt regretted not dressing better, like all the other guests eating dinner here. Then he remembered it was not in his nature to care about that sort of thing.

Mutt sliced his steak quickly, stuffing more food into his already full mouth. Never knew when one would get to enjoy food again, not in the traveling business. He nodded at the older man across from him in gratitude.

"Hey, thanks for the supper," Mutt spoke through his food. "It's delicious."

The captain, a Mr. Wentworth, nodded in amusement at the boy and his Asian companion, in an apparent race to see who would empty their plates first. He was a round, happy old man, with silver sideburns that morphed into his mustache, a funny sight to behold. Like any proud Englishman, he held a pompous air about him that only was characterized by his outfit typical to a sea captain. He twitched his mustache and grumbled like a horse.

"Nonsense! It's the least I can do for the son of the man who saved my life and the lives of my finest crewmembers back in the Mediterranean. Now, getting back to that very story…"

The captain was very much obliged to tell the son of Indiana Jones the tale of his father's heroics, a story which Mutt was very interested in. Any man that spoke well of his father, and even of his adventures firsthand, was alright by him.

"--Water was overwhelming the main deck by then, and everyone resigned to the fact that we weren't going to make it…"

"Mi-ter Jones, excuse me," Short whispered to Mutt, tugging on his sleeve. The captain went right on talking, not seeming to notice.

"Excuse you? Why, did you burp?" Mutt asked back, just before Short arose from his seat. Mutt followed Short with his eyes, as the skinny Asian walked around the ballroom floor to the entrance of the dining hall.

Then Mutt noticed that at the entrance stood none other than Roux Belloq. And, as odd a sight as it was, it was Roux Belloq… in a _dress_. A sleeveless red number, with a puffy bottom, even black high heels and short black gloves.

Mutt glared at the devil in a dress, thinking she could parade around here in a sweet little number and be welcome in the same room as him. Well, obviously Short seemed to think so, as the obviously smaller boy swept up her hand and kissed it. She laughed at something he said, and smiled at him.

"Traitor," Mutt grumbled under his breath.

"Sorry, what was that?" the Captain interrupted his own story to ask. Mutt shook his head to signify it was nothing.

-

**Please review.  
Signed,  
--RedRogue**


End file.
